<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Gust by ScarsLikeVelvet</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29261610">Gust</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarsLikeVelvet/pseuds/ScarsLikeVelvet'>ScarsLikeVelvet</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Year of Prompts [38]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Teen Wolf (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bad Friend Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Dead Sheriff Stilinski, Don't Like Don't Read, How Do I Tag, M/M, Necromancer Stiles Stilinski, Necromancy, Ritual Magic, ritual killings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 01:27:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>917</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29261610</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarsLikeVelvet/pseuds/ScarsLikeVelvet</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The protector of the Nemeton died. Stiles does what he does best. He rectifies the situation.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Year of Prompts [38]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2086053</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>227</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>101 Ways to Kill Scott McCall</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Gust</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This story is pretty graphic. I know it's not for everyone. Even I wouldn't read it on my bad days. But I still had fun getting the picture out of my head.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A gust of wind blew across the clearing. Dead leaves swirled through the air. The smell of blood was intense. </p><p>Wax dripped onto the stump of the Nemeton. The candles marked the corners of a large pentagram that surrounded hundreds of tiny sigils. </p><p>In the center of the pentagram lay the source of the blood.</p><p>Peter …</p><p>… whose dead eyes stared towards the quickly darkening heaven.</p><p>… whose throat and stomach were torn open.</p><p>… who had been eviscerated by the one who should have protected him.</p><p>… who was the one who really should have been the one to do the protecting because they all were mere children fucking around in the world of supernatural adults.</p><p>… who was the only one who cared for Stiles since the one who should do the protecting had dropped the ball to chase some tail had gotten the Sheriff killed.</p><p>… who was the only one who could have curbed this not so irrational bout of anger and its results.</p><p>… who would rise again as everything that had hurt them went down.</p><p>Muffled screams sounded around the clearing.</p><p>With a manic grin on his face and eyes glowing in a swirl of purple, sapphire blue, emerald green, ruby red, white, and black like a fucking galaxy Stiles turned around and looked at the person he had once called his best friend. He looked at said person's mother who had dropped the ball just like her son when she took care of someone who could heal just about anything instead of Stiles' father who was bleeding out at a rapid pace. His gaze turned onto the girl who had made the person he had called best friend do a one-eighty. Also, there were the people who had hurt Peter and his family. Who had ripped apart a healthy pack because of their racist, specieist ideals that were so backward it wasn't even funny anymore.</p><p>Five sacrifices would be needed. Five sacrifices had been found. Five sacrifices would be dead by the end of the night.</p><p>Stiles watched the moon rise.</p><p>He heard footsteps draw nearer in the dead of the night. </p><p>He ignored them because he knew neither the banshee nor the hell hound would interfere.</p><p>The Nemeton wouldn't let them.</p><p>It wanted its protector back.</p><p>So they stood by and watched as Stiles started chanting when the moon had fully risen. </p><p>They watched as he walked around the clearing painting runes with Peter's blood onto the brows of the people who failed, ridiculed, killed, hurt them so much.</p><p>They watched as he used a dagger made from an Alpha's claw to rip their throats.</p><p>They watched as they all slowly bled out. The experience was longer and more drawn out because Stiles wanted them to suffer what his dead father had to suffer.</p><p>They were witnesses when the chanting reached its fever-pitch. When magic swirled and twisted around the clearing. When shadows rose and brought back what should not have died in the first place. </p><p>They witnessed how torn flesh knit together.</p><p>They witnessed how deadly wounds healed and how the light returned to the eyes of the one who should not have died in the first place while it left the eyes of the five sacrifices.</p><p>The magic reached its peak and exploded in blinding white.</p><p>Stiles positively glowed with magic when they could see again. Everything else he had used in the ritual had vanished.</p><p>Only Peter remained resting against the stump of a now fast-growing Nemeton.</p><p>The sacrifices to let him live again also helped the Nemeton to reach its former glory fast. They healed the land.</p><p>Peter's eyes opened and they were glowing ruby red. He studied Stiles but did not say a word. Instead, he rose and pulled the young Spark who had pulled such a feat into his arms.</p><p>It was at that moment that Alan Deaton, the town's vet, and retired druid stumbled into the clearing.</p><p>He looked around at the now blooming and prospering clearing.</p><p>»What have you done?« he asked.</p><p>Stiles' galaxy eyes flashed and he grinned wickedly. </p><p>»What you should have done years ago but were too afraid to do. I restored the balance of the land and gave the Nemeton what it longed for. Well … not everything it longed for but I am sure that Alpha Hale will be happy to give it the last of the people who aggrieved it,« Stiles answered.</p><p>Peter moved in a flash. </p><p>One moment Deaton stood there staring wide-eyed at the Spark who he had thought would never amount to anything without his help and in the next lifeless eyes stared towards the leaf canopy until the body had been sucked into the earth surrounding the Nemeton to fuel its growth.</p><p>No words were spoken but bonds were established right at the Nemeton.</p><p>The Alpha and his Emissary and Mate bonded with the Guardian of the Dead and her Guardian.</p><p>The remnants of the failed Alpha's pack slowly stepped into the clearing as the Nemeton had called for them and they stared around in wonder before tilting their heads back and baring their throats as one.</p><p>Peter studied them and after a soft nod from his mate, he all bound them to the pack.</p><p>Each and every one of them would have much to learn. It would be a busy time for all of them but with the Nemeton backing them they finally stood a chance to grow into a healthy, prospering pack.</p><p>Stiles looked forward to it.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Find me on Tumblr as <a href="https://www.tumblr.com/blog/polemonium-writes">Polemonium-writes</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>